The Store

The Store

“Get outa the way, you old coot!” the teenager yelled, apparently in a hurry to get past me for some unfathomable reason. This was a store, it wasn’t crowded, it was going to be open for hours. I was hard pressed to see the issue. I was actually hard pressed to care, I was aiming at the checkout, and I was gonna get there first.

I had a couple things in my cart. I wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, this kid rubbed me the wrong way, sort of stepped on my last nerve or something. I hunkered down, pushing my cart quickly into the slot, so he couldn’t get past. I looked back. You could almost see smoke coming out his collar he was so angry.

Suddenly I wondered what could possibly be so important to someone so young. I couldn’t think of a thing that would rev me up like that. “What is your hurry?” I asked.

He looked at me as if I was a painting on the wall that had just come to life. His surprise at the question was palatable. “I’m late picking up my little sister,” he said, hesitatingly, “she’s gonna be scared.”

I must be getting old, maybe it was a scam, but I wanted so much to believe him, I let him go ahead. He quickly paid for some cough medicine and flew out of the store.

As I was walking home I caught sight of him again. He was walking the other way, now holding the hand of a young girl of about five or six. She was laughing at something he’d said. As he looked up, he saw me. He smiled and waved. I waved back.

Maybe the world isn’t going to hell in a handbasket after all.